I'm Theon Greyjoy

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***

Maron's quick strikes made him twist like a hedgehog just to avoid the painful blows of the blunted axe. He struck with all his strength and speed. Theon would not be strong enough to fend off his older brother's blows; he would be blown away.

Many relatives were watching the fight. His uncle, Euryon Greyjoy, with his neat dark beard and black tunic with a golden kraken embroidered on his chest, smirked, and beside him stood a cloudy frowning Victarion, the tallest of all the men in the courtyard with a bogatyr article and pudgy fists.

Asha looked on with worry on her face, and beside her, with a soothing hand on the girl's shoulder, stood Rodrik, the heir to the Iron Islands, with clear brown eyes. The eldest of Lord Baelon's brood.

Maron was tired of hitting his constantly wriggling opponent and used a deceptive feint with his axe to knock him to the ground. No sooner had Theon stood up than the blunted edge of the axe appeared next to his face.

-You've lost again,' Maron said, amused at his younger brother's efforts. The older brother's wide mouth opened in an unpleasant smile, and his face, swarthy and ugly, became satisfied.

- Another duel. - Wrinkling his nose, Theon took the axe lightly aside with two fingers and stood up.

-That's enough for today, brother. You better go shoot some archery, let me cross my axe with Rodrik.

Rodrik grinned and stepped forward:

-Yes, Theon, go get some rest. I need to teach the younger one a lesson so he knows his place in front of the older one.

Maron laughed happily and raised his axe in the direction of the shouldering Rodrik. Theon sighed, but obeyed, and stood up finally, stepping aside. He returned his practice, blunted sword to the counter.

Watching Rodrik and Maron swing their axes with speed, confidence, and without any unnecessary movement, Theon was envious. He had yet to grow to that level. He had chosen a sword rather than an axe as his weapon of choice. It was perfect for Theon's frail body.

Theon was still nine years old, and his body was too small to swing a big axe. Lately, he had been pouring himself into his training, improving his body every day, shooting archery and swinging his sword, tossing his books aside a bit.

The whole point was that Greyjoy had nothing more to read in Pike's book-poor library. The universal had an excellent speed-reading skill, while the locals could only read syllables without syllables, God forbid. Theon, who read every day, swallowed a dozen of them a day.

Knowing how cruel the world was to people weak in spirit and body, Theon decided to improve his skills with cold weapons, not forgetting archery.

The people around him even took it positively - in the Iron Islands, only those who can stand up for themselves and pay an iron price are respected.

Here Maron falls to the ground, holding his arm. Rodrik snags the younger man and quickly topples him to the ground. The older brother's authority is now protected. Still in jest, but Maron challenged Rodrik. And lost.

Euron grinned wryly at the sight of it all, Victarion only pressed his lips tightly together.

It was their turn to spar with each other, and there was no clear winner. Victarion was a master of the axe, but always attacked in a straightforward and artless manner, while Euryon, while inferior in skill, always took the cunning and speed of his blows. But Theon didn't want to see who would win; he wanted to practise archery.

Theon could only whistle as he put another arrow into the ten, and suddenly, on his very first attempt, he was successful. At first he'd chalked it up to luck, but he soon realised he had a talent for it. Or maybe the previous owner of the body had some skill with a bow? He didn't know, not all of Theon's memory was available to the universe.

After shooting a couple dozen more arrows, Theon quickly collected all the arrows and put them in his quiver. The arrows and quiver, along with his bow, had been given to him by the local castle blacksmith, Urrig, who not only forged weapons but also worked with wood.

Heavy thoughts of the future kept coming into his head. No matter how hard the new Theon tried, they kept popping into his head. What does he want to be in this world? He has a good position - the third son of an entire High Lord, albeit of the weakest kingdom, but still, still... it's a lot better than being born an ordinary peasant in the Commonwealth or the Riverlands.

But he's the third son, and he'll have to do everything on his own - and to do that, he'll have to have certain skills. Such as swordsmanship and archery. You also need money.

Given where he's been reborn, the way to get money is obvious. Raiding neighbouring lands to make money didn't scare Theon, but was seen as a way to gather resources.

Theon quickly accepted the rules of this world because he had lived by similar laws in the past, but it was just more civilised.

The strong always devour the weak, it's an axiom. No matter how hard people try, but their animal origin takes over reason quite often. People like to talk about lofty feelings, justice and ideals, but people are hypocrites. Greyjoy has seen this in his past life, surviving in the ruins of the Red Empire.

He'll gather his crew, get his ship. He'll take what belongs to others at ironclad cost. He'll become a pirate, an outcast in other lands. And then what?

Perhaps he would loot treasures without dying along the way, and then he would linger in old age, dying of many diseases... or perhaps he would find a new purpose? Theon didn't know what would happen next. He just didn't.

He wanted to think the best, but most likely he would end up getting his cherished arrow or sword in his side.

After looking around at his surroundings, Theon sighed and headed back to the Great Hall for the umpteenth time. There, his father held a feast among the castle's inhabitants.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''"'

The long tables at which many people were seated were bursting with food, mostly fish and other sea creatures, but there was the occasional roasted boar and deer meat.

Baked crabs with mushrooms, thick soups of fish and vegetables, fish cutlets and whale meat, a rare guest on the tables of the Iron Islands. Wine was absent here - only beer, foamy and slightly bitter to the taste.

There were cheers in honour of Pike's master, who had decided to hold a feast for his servants - loyal warriors and free captains, numerous kin and some prominent citizens of Lordport and their lord, a city not far from Pike. There were even a couple of merchants from the Green Lands among the guests from Lordport.

Baelon frowned, looking at the blond and fat faces of the merchants. These were from the Westlands, and they weren't here by accident. They're probably sniffing around. I wonder who invited them. Baelon thought he should have Euryon find out. The younger man would be smarter about this, unlike stupid Victarion or naive Aeron.

The Old Lion keeps a close eye on the Iron Islands, and Baelon has caught his spies more than once. But no matter how much the Lion is pleased, the Kraken will still catch him unawares.

The ships were built stealthily, and Baelon spared no expense in buying timber from the beggarly northerners of the Stone Coast and Cape Kraken, who were reluctant to sell, but the Lord Reaper offered plenty of gold to refuse.

The Ironborn intensified their raids on the Summer Isles and some of the lands of Essos to gather more gold, and more and more frequent feasts were held in Pyke to discuss the specifics of the future Rebellion.

It was an idea he had cherished since his ascension to the Sea Throne of Pyke.

His father, who had died in the Expanse, had had a desire to change the Iron Islands, but all his changes had been quickly reversed like a tidal wave against an unshakable shore. Even then as heir, he had argued with him many times about it. And the eldest of Quellonne Greyjoy's sons has not changed his mind.

Baelon decided to rebel in order to bring back the old traditions that had been destroyed by the dragons that had already passed away. Westeros is weak and relaxed. The inhabitants of the green continent think that the Greyjoys have enjoyed and settled down with one pillage of the Vastness during the Baratheon rebellion, but they are very wrong....

They tried to do it all covertly, especially the purchase of timber and the building of ships. No reason to give the new king and all-powerful Hand any reason to be wary.

Glancing around at the many faces in the great hall, Baelon suddenly came upon Theon coming into the hall.

His son had changed a great deal since his fall down the stairs. At first he'd been afraid he'd turned into a second Harlow Reader, given his son's sudden love of books, but when the boy began crossing swords with the others, he was glad. He had yet to have the semblance of a grey rat as his third offspring.

The boy is performing well. Persistent, clever, and cunning. He'll make a good Greyjoy, Baelon was sure. That was good.

Raising his goblet, taking all the kind words in his direction, the Old Kraken sipped the dark, thick lordship's beer.

Sometimes his contempt for the people of Westeros reached such a level that Baelon was willing to drink even crappy Lordship liquor.